


nightgiver

by prommyargentum



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (very minor spoilers for the first shadowbringers dungeon but that's it), Ambiguous-Gender Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hurt/Comfort, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prommyargentum/pseuds/prommyargentum
Summary: a quiet moment is shared between the warrior of light and the exarch following the slaying of the first warden, each exhausted but each wishing to offer some sort of solace to the other.tired warrior of light,verytired exarch.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	nightgiver

“Pray, tarry a moment, would you?”

A soft sound: you turn and catch what you can only assume to be the Crystal Exarch’s eye — hidden away beneath that blasted hood of his it can be hard to tell, but the gentle smile he seems to almost shyly offer guides your guess to thinking that he sees your cocked head one way or another. For a minute he stands completely still, three, four yalms away at most, and then beckons you closer, walking slowly to the spot where Philia dispersed not a half bell ago. Conscious of the voices of Alphinaud and the group growing ever quieter as they move out to look for any lingering survivors, you glance back towards the entrance of the arena to find their search party already approaching the first bend, too far gone to call out to them even if you wished to.

Looking back towards the Exarch, you can’t fairly say that you do wish it, either, although what the reason for this is you don’t readily understand. With a shrug you shake your head, vowing not to dwell on such abstractions until such a time as you can do so without jeopardising aught else, and take slow, strained steps to the Exarch’s side, not entirely stable on your feet just yet. He seems to notice as much, reaching out his crystal hand to support your weight but pulling back at the last second so that you stumble forward, one fettered foot catching the other and sending you staggering into his side, eliciting a small yelp from him and a choked inhale from yourself.

“Still a little woozy?” Breathing a quiet chuckle, he tucks his crystal arm into one of the many folds and flounces of his robe and wraps his other around your shoulders to keep your swaying figure steady. “After an influx of aether like that, it’s a wonder you’re standing at all — well, actually, come to think of it, might it be better if you sat a while and waited off the dizziness? I had hoped to have the opportunity to speak with you either way. Come now, just like this…” The Exarch lowers you down carefully, drawing you close to his side to keep your balance until the two of you are sat safely on the gritted ground. “Now, isn’t that fine? Tell me, how are you feeling?”

Somewhat surprised at the unexpected question, you take a breath to say something, _anything_ , but naught forms, and instead of grasping for words — for what words are there, anyway? — you let loose a short sigh, shuffling sideways to put a fulm or two of distance between yourself and the Exarch. The scorched grass scratches your palms as you lay them flat either side of you, propping yourself up as you wait for the man to settle himself.

“Exhausted, eh?” Again, you say nothing; beside you, the Exarch makes a slow inhale. “You…you knew her, didn’t you? That second eater.” And utterly uninvited, her image floods your mind once more, visage twisted, eyes pitted, plucked out, perfunctory orifices now gaping where they once resided, each abyss opening to bleed bitter black along the silver skin. It resembled her, you think, but you aren’t sure, and the longer you consider it, the more those two faces begin to converge until you can’t quite tell one from the other. “Aye, I thought as much.” As always, he takes your silence as an answer without questioning it further. “I should have thought better than to bring you here without considering that first. You have my deepest apologies.”

All you can offer is a weak nod.

“It was painless, if naught else,” he says, voice quiet. “You made it so.”

You find yourself wondering about that with a bitter smile, the weight of the weapon slinging carelessly from your shoulder all the heavier for such a remark, well-intentioned or otherwise. The Exarch would not know, you suppose, of that heaviness, of that hollow hurt that haunts your heart at each tremendous _thud_ they make when they fall, formless, faceless, forgotten in an instant as you press on. What was Tesleen but one of thousands of others lost to your hands? Your hands, horrid, calloused and cracked at the knuckles, small scratches caked in the dust and dirt of battle; your hands which can slay but never save, your hands, _your_ hands, shaking now at the mere thought of having to do this again and again and again, all the while acutely aware of the very real risk of those you love suffering the same sad fate as Tesleen.

Warrior of Darkness…that’s what he had called you: not _a_ Warrior of Darkness, or even _the_ Warrior of Darkness — _his_ Warrior of Darkness. A personal signifier. You feel you can carve a certain sense of comfort out of the term (and perhaps something besides comfort, though what you’re not sure) but you cannot help finding yourself a little melancholic for the moniker all the same; it serves as a reminder that your presence here is a solely purposeful one, and a purpose that you yourself had little choice in championing, difficult though it may be. To go from being Eorzea’s famed Warrior of Light to Norvrandt’s faceless Warrior of Darkness feels as though it flies in the face of everything that you have sought to accomplish thus far, as though all those many, many sacrifices in the name of Hydaelyn’s light were for naught.

A sudden weight draws you from your thoughts; glancing down, you find the Exarch’s large hand atop your own, its tremors forced to an abrupt stop under the force of his palm. “You were not the one to take her,” he says. “The woman you knew was gone long before — you saw her turn in Amh Araeng, did you not?”

You shake your head, not wanting to argue.

“What you did for her was a mercy only you could grant her. Better that than have her go on to become exactly that which she hated, don’t you think?” He takes a shallow breath, the hand he rests on yours tightening its grip ever so slightly. “You are not yet accustomed to the ways of this world, but in time you will come to see your actions for what they are, and the reason for all of this will make sense. For now, focus on what I tell you. I’ll not lead you astray.” 

Your eyes move to the Exarch, who offers a small smile before tilting his head back to take in the unending night sky overhead: a star-studded spectacle, spotless and serene, and yet it positively pales in comparison to the awe with which the hooded figure at your side observes it. How long has he waited for this sky to return? And how much weight has he tried to bear upon such narrow shoulders in the meantime? It may have been worth it for this, you think. For him. In this moment the warmth of the hand that holds your so steady is the only thing your muddled mind is capable of considering even remotely important, and without thinking you move a half fulm closer so that your shoulder brushes lightly against the Exarch’s.

Time continues to pass, a soft silence settling itself in the space that lies between you and the Exarch, and you allow your mind to wander, first to Alphinaud and his search for survivors, and then to Alisaie and her rattling reticence when Philia finally fell. You make a note to yourself to relay the Exarch’s words to her when next you see her — though not fully believing in them just yet, you hope that they may manage to offer her some small sliver of solace, and after a second of consideration acquiesce that there’s naught else you can do for her now anyway. To ward off any worse thoughts before they can arise from the dark depths of your aching head, you try to think of what needs be done when you reach the Crystarium: you’ll need to leave your gear in for repairs, then stop into Spagyrics and have Chessamile give you a quick look over, and afterwards you’ll see if you can seek out Lyna to ask after the injured. You may not have time to retire to your room tonight, but you think you can probably make up for it if you delay setting forth with the others for a day or two.

A gentle rustling beside you draws you from your thoughts, leaving the mental list only half finished, but you need not wonder overlong as to its source — before you can turn to look the Exarch’s hand slips from yours as his body slumps sideways, his head falling to rest in your lap, the infernal hood hiding his face even from this perspective. At your awkward gasp he only laughs, raising his crystal hand as if urging you to relax while not making any effort to right himself. “Ah, now who’s taking care of who?” He smirks, shaking his head; the soft cloth of his robe is soothing in the cool of the night. “Pray forgive me. I fear this body is not what it once was.”

Uncertain of how to respond, you offer a weak smile of your own.

“I would not impose further upon you after your earlier ordeal, but I would ask that you allow me to remain here for just a minute, if you please. You know not how long it has been since last I had the pleasure of looking upon such a sky.” The Exarch shuffles to lay flat on his back, hands clasped over his chest, and though you can’t tell where exactly it is his gaze rests, you feel for some reason that it meets your own; an uncomfortable blush begins to spread up your neck, yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. “Such a gift you’ve given me…and I can offer you naught for it. What am I to do, I wonder?”

With a quick wave of your hand you dismiss his mumbling, far too tired and far too timid to admit to him that his presence alone is more than enough of a reward for your labours.

“I’m afraid you’ll not hush me that easily, my dear nightgiver. I shall personally see to it that you are duly…duly…” The Exarch’s sentence is lost in a barely concealed yawn that escapes him in spite of his best efforts; he pauses a moment, unmoving, and then heaves a sigh. “There truly is something about you, you know. I’ve not been tired in the longest time, and yet with you, I can rest.”

You tilt your head, not fully sure you understand.

“Think not on it. I told you just a minute ago, did I not? All you need do is focus on what I tell you — trust in my words without dwelling on them. You can do that, can’t you?” You nod before you’re even properly aware of it, and he shows a small grin, clearly satisfied. “Of course you can. Perhaps that is why I can leave myself in your care so easily.”

An unsteady chuckle spills from your lips at his musing, though you lack the strength to offer any meaningful response — you don’t know what you want to say, and feel that even if you did, saying so aloud would shatter whatever this current comfort is.

The Exarch clears his throat, shuffling into a more comfortable position. “In a different time, mayhap I could have told you all,” he mumbles, words carried along the wind, almost lost in its breeze but caught by your ever-eager ears. “I could have, and I think this…I think this could have been more than what it must needs be.” With a grimace he falls silent, the sentence hanging unfinished between you; just as you consider speaking up to ease the suddenly sullen mood, however, his soft voice rings out again. “For now, though, perhaps I can allow myself this much, if you would grace me with it.”

You raise your hand to rest on the Exarch’s shoulder, fingers grazing the trimmed hood; he flinches at first, drawing away from you for a moment before leaning back in. There is a certain solemnity to his words that you can feel is lost on you, though you know that asking would not bring you any closer to an answer; if anything, you imagine that seeking an explanation for his ominous lamentation is like only to worsen his weary spirit, and so you resolve to press the matter no further for the meantime. This is enough — it is more than enough.

His hand falls over yours once more, holding it in place a mere ilm or two from the patch of crystal on his neck. A faint heat seems to radiate from it. “You’ll not try and sneak a peek if I rest, will you?” he asks, trying a smile, and you shake your head to reassure him that you won’t in spite of the damnable desire to do otherwise. “Ah, I knew you wouldn’t, my nightgiver. I was only teasing.”

The Exarch brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, the movements slow and even, the same steady rhythm you observed in his fighting earlier. You envy his ability to stay composed even when he is not so. The soundless minutes pass by and naught more is said between you, though nothing feels to be lacking — you have said all there is to say for now, and will avail of the moment’s reprieve while it offers itself to you. You tighten your grip on his shoulder, silently repeating that little term of endearment over and over again, a mantra, an enchantment to keep you safe.

 _Nightgiver_.

**Author's Note:**

> i actually started writing this right after finishing holminster switch and am now on my way to go do the final trial of the expansion...uni has had me completely wiped out but the exarch is a wonderful source of comfort. this thought has been knocking around my head for a while - the fic potential for sleepy exarch is absolutely endless. i've got a cute little playlist for him and my warrior of light [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2BKXv1uWg9aAsKpFQzwCD5?si=wJLkP4joTxSSrgFXf2K1DA), and he features a ton in my gposes on twitter which you can find [here](https://twitter.com/jumpytenmyoldy/status/1325634857721077764), [here](https://twitter.com/jumpytenmyoldy/status/1325634831410212865), and [here](https://twitter.com/jumpytenmyoldy/status/1324542497050238977)!
> 
> this was super fun to write so i've been considering taking up some requests for ffxiv fic if there'd be an interest in it! i'm hoping to be able to be more involved with the community once i'm fully caught up on the MSQ, so it'd be super cool to mix with everyone. i'm also thinking i might write some named warrior of light x exarch fics sometime soon, but that's a thought for the future. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed! (ovo)b


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